


Seven Devils

by LindaLee91



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Also Arya gets to fight people, Also they're dating, Also virginity is lost and never seen again, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BTW there's some violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaLee91/pseuds/LindaLee91
Summary: One-shot fic. Arya/Gendry in a dystopian future."Are you trying to cover me up? Worried that being out here alone, in the dark with a half-naked girl will make you want to try something?”It was just light enough that she could see the blush when he smiled at her. Instead of saying, 'no' or 'yeah, right' or possibly throwing up in his mouth like she might have thought, he simply said. “You're not a girl anymore”.





	Seven Devils

He was staring into the middle distance again. And not the kind of staring that you did when you thought about something pleasant like cake or sex. Boys were supposed to think about sex a lot weren't they? Gendry never seemed to. He only ever seemed to do the kind of thinking that could only reliably be referred to as 'brooding'.   
“I can't believe they sent us off on a supply run.” Arya tried to nudge him into speaking. “It's such bollocks. Robb or Theon or anyone one of them could've done it. But noooooo. Send the kids.”  
Nothing. Huh.   
“I mean,” she continued, balancing carefully on a fallen branch, extending her arms like a tightrope walker. “Just because we're kids they think we're just up for anything. That we don't have anything better to do and it's bullshit.”   
She waited again for a sign of acknowledgment. Was it possible that he was actually dead and yet still walking?  
Finally, accepting that she was just talking to herself, Arya sighed. “Fine then. You wont talk so I'll just do all of your bits for you.” She cleared her throat, lowering her voice a few decibels and puffing out her chest. “I'm not a kid, Arya. Not like you. I'm a man. I have a job in the community, I have big, muscly man arms, and have you seen my 5 o'clock shadow?”   
The corner of his mouth tugged up. He ducked his head a little further to hide it.   
“Those sods in the small council can't boss me around. I'd fight anyone one of them--”  
“Oi! That's not me that's you! You were the one that said you wanted to slap Cersei. And Joffrey.”   
“Ah! It does speak!” Arya laughed as she jogged to keep up with his long strides. “I thought you'd lost your voice as well as your sense of humor.” She took his hand to slow him down and to remind him that she was there. “And anyway, everyone wants to slap Joffrey. He only has that job because of who his mum and dad are.”   
“Exactly!” Gendry shouted, stopping suddenly. He quickly remembered he was supposed to keep his voice down and glanced around, scanning the trees. “That's exactly the problem,” he continued, his voice close to a whisper. “His parents. Or his dad. Who is also my dad, though he wouldn't admit it with more than two people in the room. Do you know what he said to me when he gave me the job at the smithy? Did I tell you?” Before she could interrupt and point out that, yes, he had told her, many times, he barreled on.   
“He said 'it's the best I can do for you'. For you. Because him never marrying my mother is apparently my fault. So he treats me like rubbish. Never mind the fact that everyone knows I'm his son, but no one says it out loud. And I look way more like him than Joffrey ever has.”   
Arya let him go. It was better, she knew to let him finish out a rant when he got on one. The alternative was the silence.   
Although, at the moment she did wonder if she shouldn't have let him brood for a little while longer. Just until they got back home. When Gendry got on a tangent, he got loud and they sort of need to be quiet when they were outside the walls of the community.   
The forest around them seemed innocuous enough. The twilight was lengthening the shadows and hiding them within. All the animals were nestling into their burrows and nests, preparing for sleep. Except the mosquitoes, which were buzzing happily around her, feasting on the blood-filled flesh left uncovered by her sleeveless shirt and shorts.   
She slapped at one bitterly and then another, pushing her short hair back behind her ear to keep distractions at bay.   
“Sorry.” Gendry's voice had calmed, and now seemed repentant. “Do you want this?” He started to talk off his jacket and hand it to her. “I should've asked before.”   
“No. Why? Are you trying to cover me up? Worried that being out here alone, in the dark with a half-naked girl will make you want to try something?”  
It was just light enough that she could see the blush when he smiled at her. Instead of saying, 'no' or 'yeah, right' or possibly throwing up in his mouth like she might have thought, he simply said. “You're not a girl anymore."

```

They had been sort of, kind of dating for a month now. Ever since the annual beginning of summer feast when they'd sneaked away from all the festivities to complain together.   
Arya had said that she thought Stannis might be wearing a toupee and Gendry had said that Joffrey's hand-made, hand-placed crown looked like it had been made out of aluminum foil and that he thought he'd seen the younger boy furiously constructing it outside the smithy the afternoon before and that the cook had been asking after him with a huff.   
They had both laughed and then they had both kissed. She was about ninety percent sure that Gendry had been the one to initiate it. He'd leaned in, she remembered watching as his eyes flitted to her lips.   
Everything after that, she was embarrassed to admit, was lost in a haze of mouths and hands and teeth. Her teeth. She thought she might've even growled once.   
It wasn't her first kiss, but it was her first with Gendry and he made it feel like her first ever.   
His mouth had been hot on hers and he had grunted once as a sign of frustration when he discovered that he couldn't possibly get her any closer to him without breaking the laws of physics.   
What Arya remembered most about that kiss--and what she'd been dwelling on at night when her sister, Sansa was sound asleep, snoring prettily next to her-- was the moment when Gendry had accidentally (or maybe purposefully?) brought his hand up a bit too far from her waist and brushed his thumb lightly across her right breast.   
She wasn't sure he'd even noticed. I mean, he had to have noticed but...  
Well, either way, he hadn't said anything. He had kissed her again. Several times. She wasn't keeping count or anything stupid like that but she did know it had been a few times. Enough that she didn't feel like he'd been avoiding her or anything. He was affectionate and she was learning to be. But he hadn't gotten, um...cheeky.   
And she wanted him to get cheeky.   
Arya thought he might have wanted it to. Sometimes she'd catch him staring at her. Not the way he'd been staring a minute ago, but more heated.   
She'd caught her father staring at her mother that same way and many a man staring at Sansa.   
Gendry would stare at her chest or her arse or something and then when he looked up and saw that she'd noticed he'd blush and look away.   
It was obvious to her that he thought she was too young to be the subject of those kind of fantasies. That had to be it.   
But she was 16! Even in the old world, the world before the change, 16 was nearly grown.   
In this new world 16 was enough. Enough for anything. Childhood ended very early now and she'd seen a lot more than her parents would've wanted. Not even Bran or Rickon could really be considered a child anymore in terms of innocence.   
And Arya considered herself less innocent than most.   
Although, she hadn't exactly told her parents that she and Gendry were dating yet.   
Not that it was any of their business—again: adult.   
But he was 21. And that was definitely an adult. That was old enough to be on the council even if you weren't lucky enough to be born Joffrey.   
He had....thoughts about girls. He'd almost definitely even done something with a girl before.   
The thought made her unusually angry.   
And then terrified.   
He probably had been with a girl. Probably with Jeyne Heddle. Jeyne with her tall, lithe body and her soft, porcelain skin. Jeyne was light and pretty and kind just like Sansa and just like a real girl should be.   
Arya was none of those things. Arya had gripped Gendry's shirt in a fist when they kissed and scratched at his neck with her stubby, dirty fingernails.   
She couldn't be delicate or ladylike. Did he want her to be? Was that why he hadn't tried to go further than kissing? Maybe--  
“Shit! Get down!” Arya's contemplation was interrupted when Gendry hissed the order and began hustling her to the side of the dirt road and into the tree line. She ran deftly, picking over fallen branches and roots and rocks as swiftly and gracefully as a deer.   
She didn't even bother looking back at what they were running from until they were safely hidden among the trees, dark hair and dark clothes camouflaging them in the summer fauna.   
She heard it then, an engine. The rough sound of dirt kicking up. Loud whooping and gears grinding.   
They watched from a crouch as the car sped by, too fast to catch a glimpse of it's driver.   
When the sound of the engine died away, Arya moved to stand.   
“Wait.” Gendry's hand was on her arm in a second. “Don't. We should wait a bit. To make sure they're gone.”   
Arya settled back in beside him. The skin of his bicep was warm against hers. She was having trouble remembering how much danger they were in.   
"Should we go back?" Her voice came out so breathy and girly that she had to clear her throat. "I mean, they were headed into town.”   
"I don't think they were. They didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon.” Gendry sighed and his eyes flashed with something angry as he glanced back in the direction they'd come from. "We'll just go to the shop and get what we came for.” He looked back down at her, Arya couldn't quite take her eyes off his lips when they were this close.   
"We'll be quick and quiet, yeah? Even if they do stop in town they won't see us.”   
"You're gonna be quiet?" Arya swatted at a mosquito in the small space between them.   
He looked surprised. "Problem?"  
"You're just literally the loudest person I've ever met. It's like a wildebeest crashing through the brush. I've never seen you be quiet. Ever.”   
“Alright, smartass.” He nudged her playfully. “Since you're apparently the expert, you can lead the way. We'll stay off the road from here on.” 

```  
It was a straight shot into town. Just one long dirt road that ended in what those in the community charitably referred to as 'town'.   
It was really more like an outpost or a way station. In among heavy greenery there was one general store, one grocery store that had been picked clean 20 years ago, and one gas station with an automotive shop tacked on.   
The latter was where they were headed.   
Arya slipped into the shadows of the deepening twilight like some teenage girls slipped into a new dress.   
Her feet were so quiet. Gendry had never understood how she did this. Her feet were small, yes, but they had to make some noise. Everyone stepped on a twig now and then. Except Arya.   
He couldn't entirely find her feet in the darkness and he fancifully considered that she might actually be floating. Next to him she seemed like she was.   
He hissed a curse when this foot hit another something in the dirt and he stumbled forward, catching himself on a wall.   
Arya shushed him.   
He gave her a snarky look, knowing that she'd never see it.   
She was busy peering around the wall they'd reached, her head bobbing from side to side.   
Her hair had really grown out quite beautifully. It almost reached her pale shoulders now.   
“Alright.” She turned back to him, her voice still a whisper. “I don't see them.”  
They both relaxed a fraction. The town was small. If she couldn't see them, there was a pretty good chance they'd driven right through.   
“Right. We go into the auto shop, grab the things on the list and get out. No dilly-dallying this time.”  
He smiled a little when she rolled her eyes. Over the years, He and Arya had been on many a trip into town for supplies. They were somewhat famous in town for taking 5 hours to make a 2 hour run. They had a tendency to mess around, throwing rocks into the nearby lake, sitting atop the roof of the general store and talking for hours, and--more recently-- kissing for hours.   
In fact, hurrying back home was going to be a bit strange for both of them. And disappointing. Arya had every intention of waiting till they were safely covered in the woods on the way back and tackling him to the ground.   
Inside the auto store was dark and dusty, with the sharp smell of oil still tinging the room.   
Gendry handed her a small torch. “Do you remember what we need?”  
“I remember the words. I have no idea what any of them mean.” Arya admitted. She wasn't entirely sure that he did either. He was a blacksmith, not a mechanic. And they only needed the parts for the small tractor that the farmers used in the fields.   
Another reason Arya was confused about why they'd been picked to go.   
“That's all you need. Just try to stay low and quiet.”  
She pulled open a metal cabinet and was a little disheartened to note that nothing inside looked recognizable. Bottles of viscous fluid lined the shelves, as well as various metal parts built into somewhat comic but utterly foreign shapes.   
She picked one up and studied it as she tried to make some sense of it as she went over the list in her head. Welding flux, alumiweld....something.   
Maybe she didn't remember as much as she thought she did. Not that any of it was even labeled anyway.   
She shined her torch into the next room, and watched as the light danced across lonely waiting chairs and an ancient, pre-collapse till with real money still in the drawer.   
Arya glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Gendry was occupied and then tip-toed into the adjoining room, careful not to scuff on the concrete floor.   
The drawer of the till had been left hanging open, probably during the old proprietor's panicked flight from the place, but there was still a single, paper bill and a few heavy-looking shiny coins.   
She picked one up and inspected it in the torchlight.   
How had people managed to keep track of a bunch of tiny little coins anyway? Her mother had told her that before the collapse, practically everywhere you went needed some kind of money. How had they remembered it and carried it with them?   
Across the coin in gold letters were the words, 'One Pound'.   
What would that have bought- she wondered- in the world before?   
She intended to pocket it for later careful analysis but a sound startled her, and she tucked it back in the drawer and pulled her hand away before Gendry caught her and accused her of being silly.   
“You alright?” She stage-whispered, even though the noise alone had been loud enough to alert anyone to their presence.   
It still wasn't loud enough for him to hear, obviously because there was no response. Arya waited a moment and then took a step toward the room.   
“Gendry?” She let her voice get a little louder this time.   
Still no reply. Something sank in her stomach even when she was still telling herself that she was being foolish.   
The next room was cold, quiet, dark, like stepping into a tomb. Was she just working herself up or was it much too quiet?   
“Gendry are you......messing with me?”   
Arya couldn't help but remember a time when she'd apprehensively tip-toed into the his workshop upon hearing it unusually quiet and he'd popped out from behind the workbench and made her jump in fright. He'd earned quite a beating for it. Of course, that had been years ago when they were still kids.   
Surely he wouldn't still be up to such childish tricks. Especially not in a time like this.   
“Gen--” Her call was cut off mid-syllable.   
Someone grabbed her around the waist and she started kicking and punching without a qualm. Not very effectively, she had to admit. But whoever it was picked her clear up off the ground and held her there. They had to be at least three times her size.   
For a split second she thought it was Gendry. It hadn't mattered to her if it was. She was prepared to fight her boyfriend just as viciously as any attacker.   
But the smell of drink on the warm breath near her ear stopped her and the bawdy words following it chilled her blood.   
“Well, look here. We've got a coupla kids out on a little field trip.”   
It was not an accent she recognized, certainly not a voice. The sound of it was rough and darkly excited. It made her shoulders stiffen with fear even as she struggled to get away.   
“Where's your mother at? Does she know you're out here?” Another voice, just as gruff asked from across the room.   
Stopping to assess the situation, Arya saw that it couldn't be Gendry that had her, 'cause that was Gendry there across the room being held just as she was. But where she could only feel one man behind her he was being held by two large, dirty, meat-headed thugs, one on each of his arms.   
They were outnumbered by a long shot. Neither of them were willing to stop fighting.   
One of them, the leader, Arya guessed, put a stop to it by punching Gendry full force in the stomach.   
Fit as he was, Gendry grunted in pain and went down to his knees, the two men still holding him up.   
“If you're done with your last resistance.” The man drawled almost boredly as he looked over his knuckles for imperfections. A silver ring glinted with blood in the waning daylight.   
It was only then she noticed that Genry's lip had been split open at some point.   
Arya felt the rage inside her catch like a house fire.   
One or two of the men were smaller than Gendry, the one behind her certainly felt thinner. But their leader was bigger, taller and older. A thick, greasy tangle of white hair covered his head. Wrinkles branched across the leathery skin of his face. She thought he might've had a layer of cataract over one of his eyes but she couldn't be sure in the poor lighting.   
“Where's your camp?” He asked, his voice, calm.   
When Gendry didn't answer the white-haired man pulled the younger boy up by taking a firm grip of his hair and yanking. It was such a violent act committed so routinely. The man didn't seem to be angry at all.   
“I know you boys came from somewhere. It must be nearby. Where is it?”  
Arya only had a second to register the mistake in the white-haired man's question before it was taken out of her hands again.   
“Manny, this one's a girl.”   
She ground her teeth.   
The white-haired man glanced up at the man holding Arya and then down at her. The look that crossed his face made her stomach clench and her throat burn with the urge to scream.   
“Oh.” He crossed the distance between them casually and put his hands on either side of her face, smoothing her short, poorly cropped hair away.   
“So she is. You could've fooled me. You're a stringy thing aren't you?”   
Up close the smell of him was almost enough to knock her out. His big rough hands were easily the size of her face and with the grip he had on her chin and the back of her head he could've snapped her neck more simply than flicking away a bug.   
Ignoring both of these things, she spit in his face with practiced accuracy.   
Just before he flinched she could see she'd managed to nail him right in the eye.   
A stupid satisfaction filled her right before he slapped her hard across the face.   
Pain spiked through her. Arya couldn't stop the girlish whimper that escaped her.   
“She your sister?”   
It was clear the question was directed at Gendry, though the white-haired man didn't turn to look at him.   
Arya couldn't see past him to tell if Gendry was back on his feet yet. But he didn't answer.   
The white-haired man turned to look at him and got everything he needed from Gendry's face, “Oh, so she's your little girlfriend,” he realized.   
This was met with lascivious laughter from the other men.   
“Don't touch her.”   
Arya was relieved to hear Gendry speak again but more than a little annoyed by what he'd said. They were arguing over her like she wasn't even there.   
“Oh, very gallant,” the white-haired man acknowledged. “Useless, but gallant.” He walked back over to Gendry, kneeling down so he was right in his face.   
“See, my boys here haven't seen a woman in a long time. And let me tell you, they've been missing one. Now.” He put a hand to his own chest. “I'm a gentleman, so I won't lay a hand on her but I can't guarantee that my boys won't if they get left alone with her. I can't guarantee that they won't do much worse”.   
He let that concept simmer. Let it hang in the air as it faded out and the sound of crickets outside replaced it. He was letting Gendry picture the 'much worse', she knew.   
Arya put it out of her mind. It was easy to do since she'd just felt the hard press of something in her sock and remembered the knife she'd put there before they'd left the community.   
She pretended like she was going to faint and let her knees go weak, sagging noiselessly to the ground. She had just enough time to grab the knife before the idiot holding her hauled her back up and shook her.   
“But they don't have to,” the white-haired man continued. “In fact we can bring you two right home. I'm sure your mothers are very worried about you. But you have to tell us where that is.”   
At that moment the man moved to the side just enough so that Gendry could glance up at Arya. So their eyes could lock.   
She was squeezing the hilt of the knife so hard it actually hurt.   
She wasn't completely sure at first that he'd understood her but when Gendry laughed, darkly, like a broken thing, but not without humor, she knew to act.   
“You think I'm an idiot, kid?” The white-haired man asked Gendry, his voice wasn't angry but it was the slightest bit annoyed.   
“I know you are,” Gendry confirmed, his mouth spewing blood with each syllable.   
“Oh yeah? Why's that?”  
“Because you think I'm the one you should be afraid of.”   
Quicker than a cat, Arya pressed herself back against the man holding her and dragged the knife against his stomach, slitting it open hip-to-hip. He let go of her and cried out but only for a moment before she'd cut his throat.   
Blood sprayed out like a loose garden hose. She ignored it.   
She threw the knife as she spun and hit one of the men holding Gendry square in the heart.   
The other one panicked as his friend sank to his knees. Gendry was able to shove him back, his strength sending the man across the room and into a table.   
They had trained to fight together more than once and now they didn't bother worrying about the other as they attacked.   
Gendry tackling the white-haired man to the ground and Arya using her forward momentum and adrenaline to take care of the man Gendry had thrown.   
She kicked him in the side of the head, but he had a thick head and it didn't seem to do much.   
Gendry started hitting the white-haired man and didn't seem to want to let up.   
She was going to have to deal with that, she realized as she finally managed to knock her assailant out with a metal rod she'd found.   
One minute. Most people woke up from being knocked out like that within about one minute.   
They didn't have much time.   
“Gendry, we have to go.” She tried to use her weight to pull him up, but he was determined and stronger than her. The white-haired man's face was starting to resemble ground meat.   
“Gendry.” Finally, she grabbed his face and made him look at her. “We have to go,” she urged.   
He nodded, absently. But she still had to pull him away.   
She held onto his hand as they ran out of the building, more from fear than to keep him with her.   
Around the side of the building the car they'd seen earlier sat parked, hidden. If they'd checked the whole area like they should've they'd have seen it and been able to get away sooner.   
Her parents were going to kill her if she survived.   
“There. The car.” Gendry began to pull her along now. “See if they left the key.”   
Opening the door, she jumped in without a second thought and didn't have it in her to even sigh in relief when she saw the keys dangling from the ignition.   
Arya turned them and heard the engine bark to life. “Get in.”   
“I should drive.”  
“You're hurt. Get in.”   
There was no time to argue, Gendry jumped into the passenger side with only a disapproving look in her direction.   
She pulled away without thinking about it and they were buzzing out of the town in no time.   
“Have you ever driven before?” Gendry wondered almost absently.   
“No.”  
He grabbed onto the door handle, tensely, but his words were dazed with incredulity, “No time like the present to learn.”

``

She drove for miles, unsure of which direction she was even headed. Arya didn't stop until the sun had gone completely down, till they were sheltered by the darkness and the blind sliver moon.   
A ramshackle, half standing housing community sprung up around them after they'd been driving for gods knew how long. It was farther than either of them had ever been from the community since they'd moved there. It was strange the sense of appealing adventure Arya felt right on the heels of the scariest moments of her life.   
Part of her wanted to park the car, get out, meander through the houses for a few hours to see what she could find. The other part wanted nothing more than to drive straight home, run to her mother's arms and cry for the rest of the night.   
“I think there's a motorway or something we can get on. I heard the council talking about it once.” Gendry spoke for the first time in an hour.   
“We need to hide. We'll find it in the morning.” It wasn't till she herself spoke that she realized that part of her premonition about the night had already come true. She was crying.   
Not sobbing or hysterically blubbering, thank the gods. But a few tears had worked their way down her face at some point that she couldn't remember and were dripping off her chin and onto her lap.   
Gendry must've noticed, too. Or it was just luck that he happened to point out a garage next to one of the houses that happened to be sitting open, the gaping mouth of it black with emptiness.   
“There,” he said firmly.   
Arya turned the wheel a bit too sharply and the tires screeched in protest. It was only Gendry's warning that had her breaking in time to keep from hitting the far wall and bringing the whole structure down.   
He hopped out of the car before she'd even shut off the engine and manually pulled the door down from the ceiling to the floor.   
There were two windows that let scant moonlight in, but none on the door.   
Didn't mean she felt safe. Didn't mean he did either.   
Getting back into the car, Gendry took one look at her and had an urge to pull her into his arms. Then he remembered how much she hated being coddled and he hesitated. Would she strike out? Would she get angry?  
He wondered if she realized that she was hyperventilating slightly.   
“Arya?” Deciding to risk it, he placed a hand over her cold little white one.   
She jerked back immediately, almost yanking her hand clear away from his before she looked down and saw his hand hovering over hers. She glanced up at his eyes and seemed to calm by degrees, her shoulders sagging. It was almost like she had forgotten he was there and had to remind herself not to strike out when she felt the touch.   
He put his hand back over hers and noticed that it was shaking. He wanted to ask if she was alright, to reassure her that they'd gone far enough now that no one would find them. Not the men, not even their parents if they didn't want them to. They had to be a hundred miles off at least, with the way she'd been driving.   
He wanted to say all of that but didn't get a chance. Before he could open his mouth again she had pushed herself up and over the stick shift, straddling his lap in the passenger seat and taking his face in her hands.   
“Arya, what--?”   
Her lips weren't cold. They weren't trembling either. How could she flip through emotions so quickly? How did she do that?   
She crushed her mouth against his and combed her fingers up into his hair with all the grace of a half-alive, starving animal. When she pulled away he tasted blood.   
“Don't say anything,” she told him, and only he knew she was begging. “Don't think.”   
And when had he ever been able to refuse her command? He kissed her back with as much fervor, not surprised when she went for the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up jerkily.   
It was an awkward operation, trying to get his shirt over his head with the limited room between the car's front passenger seat and the glove box. One of his hands hit the ceiling with a loud thud and scraped along the upholstery in a way that was sure to leave a mark on his skin.  
When she started in on his jaw and neck, working her way down to his now bare chest as much as she could, given the console pressing into her back, he forgot about the pain he was feeling. The fists that had barreled into his face and stomach were a hundred miles away—both figuratively and literally-- and Arya's warm mouth was right here, working it's way across his collarbone.   
Her lips brushed over the place where his pulse hammered behind his skin. Gendry hadn't really been finished being terrified when she'd jumped onto his lap and the sudden switch to relief and arousal had him hardening very quickly. The part of him that might have been embarrassed to have her straddling him when he was hard died a swift death when she pressed herself closer and rocked against him.   
There was another animalistic sound then, but he couldn't tell if it came out of her or him.   
He ripped her shirt. Ripped it clean off of her in one smooth motion that spoke of confidence and strength. She was annoyed by this on some, distant level. The thought of what exactly the hell he was expecting her to wear to go back home flitted through her mind before being chased out by the eclipsing feeling of those big, rough hands on her bare breasts.   
She wasn't wearing a bra, since the bloody things had always felt like straight-jackets to her and her tits weren't big enough to really need one anyway.   
They felt bigger in his hands, even though the rest of her felt smaller. Maybe it was the reverent, stunned look in his eyes when they'd briefly pulled apart for air, or the clumsy way his callused hands cupped them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples in a way that apparently made her shiver.   
She didn't know if she could get her shorts off. The space they had in the car was too small and the denim of them was too thick even for Gendry to rip apart. The struggle with them became and enveloped her whole world. All that mattered was getting them off, her movements made bumbling by the lack of blood in her brain.   
Between then two of them they managed to pull them off somehow and she decided not to even bother attempting his trousers. Instead, she unhooked his belt, ignoring the panic that warred with the arousal in her stomach, reaching into his pants and pulling out his cock.   
“Arya.” There was a whisper of fear in his voice, too but it was mostly surprise. Like he was shocked they'd gotten to this point so quickly. Like he was expecting after all the open-mouth kissing and tit-fondling that they would just put their clothes back on and drive home.   
“I told you, don't think.” She breathed against his lips.   
Her hand stroked slowly, once, up and down. His lips went slack against hers, his hips rising off of the seat ever-so-slightly.   
When he spoke it was a struggle. It felt like there was sand in his head. “We can't. You're in shock you—oh, fuck.”   
She laughed. It was refreshing. She hadn't thought she was going to laugh again. At least not any time soon.   
He laughed too and gripped her arms, her biceps tight under his hands. “You're father is gonna have me killed if he finds out.”   
“Maybe don't talk about my father when my hand is on your cock, yeah?”   
“Right. What I mean was--” He swallowed and she watched his Adam's apple bob with something like fascination. His eyes were dark in the scant moonlight. His arousal and the dim lighting conspired to make the pupils completely eclipse the evening sky color that they usually boasted. But they focused on her calmly, devastatingly serious.   
“You've never done this before. I don't know if.....if this is special enough. If I'm the one who should--”   
“Gods, what a stupid argument.” She shut him up with another forceful kiss and levered herself up so that she could properly seat herself on his cock.   
He thought he might have seen bright flashes of fireworks behind his eyelids. When he opened them he realized hers were closed too. Her eyes were screwed shut in pain, her straight, white teeth pressing into her lower lip.   
He didn't move, didn't breath. “Are you alright?”   
It was painful, but not in the way she'd expected and possibly (now that she could admit it) feared. She'd experienced far worse pain when she was fighting. She'd bled far more from cuts and stabs and sword wounds and falls from the high walls surrounding the Community.   
And it had been far less pleasurable then.   
She opened her eyes and nodded. He reached up and pulled her lip from her teeth with his thumb.   
She started moving before he did, grinding herself slowly at first and then harder against him. He had to grab her hips to steer her into a more delicate rhythm. Rapture stole over her face. She gripped the shoulders of the seat behind him and pressed herself down gingerly, taking him in completely. He groaned again, leaning his head back against the head rest, breathing her name.   
Arya was finding that she didn't care as much now whether or not she was doing this right. Whether or not this was how Jayne Heddle or whoever else he'd fucked had moved when she was on him. His dirty, oil-stained hands were on her hips, probably smudging dirt and bruises into her skin. Some dark part of her felt like it was waking up. This was how she felt when she fought. It was the same as when the blood started flowing and the screams began, blending into the background of her mind and letting her tap into the part of her that could smell the fear from miles away and track it across the forest floor.   
It felt like he was bringing out the wolf.   
He pulled her closer, using his strong arm to break her apart from her leverage leaning away and settling her so their skin was touching again. Sweat made their skin cling. While he pressed his lips to hers again he snaked his hand down between them and rubbed some part of her that she didn't even know she had, but that she intended to take full advantage of again at the next possible interval.   
When she came she ripped the upholstery on the shoulder rests with her fingernails. When he came he cursed like a sailor. Obviously he didn't care so much about her innocence now.   
Afterward he rested his head against her neck, breathing hard.   
“Fuck.”   
“Yeah, you said that.” She combed her hand through his soft hair.   
“Sorry. Fuck.” He was still panting. “We definitely shouldn't have done that.” He said it offhandedly with no regret. When he looked up he was smiling a little.   
“Too late.” She smiled too as she kissed him again.   
He put his hand around her tiny wrist and kissed it once. “We should get back.”   
“Or...”   
Still in a bit of a daze, it took him a second to register what she was saying. “Or...?”   
She smiled quickly.“We could keep driving for a little while. See what else is out here.”   
Now he smiled with her. “Do you think they'd notice we were gone?”   
“I think so. Eventually.” She reached down on the floor to pick up her shorts. “I think they'd even send out a search party for us. After a while. That might be quite an interesting thing to see.”   
“That could take days.”   
When she only bit her lip again he knew he was going to agree. He really had to start figuring out how to refuse her commands.


End file.
